Photos
by bjaarcy
Summary: Kurt's thoughts on his time in NYC on his way back to Lima. Takes place during s2x22, so spoilers up to there. Mentions Klaine, Samcedes and Kurt-ND friendship! Written in celebration of gLee returning next week! :D


Because I just watched a rerun of New York, and in celebration of our favourite show returning in **LESS THAN A WEEK**, I have written _yet another_ New York fic. It's always kinda bothered me how Kurt was more upset in Regionals than in Nationals, so I tried clearing it up by writing this. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: If I owned gLee, I wouldn't be flipping shit over the fact that it's returning in **LESS THAN A WEEK**. As it turns out though, I am :)

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><p>Kurt looked up from his copy of SkyMall and placed it back into the seat pocket in front of him. He looked to his right, smirking at what he saw. It was Mercedes, blissfully asleep next to Kurt as she rested her head against Sam's shoulder. Sam, too, was also knocked out, with earbuds blasting music through his ears as he leaned back in his aisle seat.<p>

This was _not_ how they were originally seated though.

Originally, Mercedes had the aisle seat, Sam was at the window, and Kurt was smack in the middle between the two. However, Sam suddenly brought up his recent fear of heights and Mercedes complained that she hated having sitting next to the aisle. Kurt rolled his eyes at the two, considering they had no problem whatsoever on the flight going _to_ New York about their seating arrangement, but shrugged it off.

(Still, he could totally sense was something going on between the two. Kurt was a little vexed about Mercedes not mentioning _a single thing_ about it yet.)

Kurt relaxed into his seat and stared out the window. It was bright and sunny, the clouds surrounding the plane looking fluffy as ever. In the row behind him, he could hear Santana sighing vehemently and the sounds of Brittany shifting in her seat. Apparently, Santana was still pissed about losing Nationals because of Finn and Rachel's kiss.

In all actuality, Kurt wasn't upset about the liplock. When he found out that Rachel and Finn actually _kissed_ on stage from Jesse complaining about it loudly after their performance (what – he was standing with his back to the couple when it happened, alright?), Kurt was actually really surprised. He didn't think that Finn had the guts to do such a thing. And then after, when he first found out that, no, the New Directions did not win Nationals, did not even _place,_ he was absolutely floored. They had done all that hard work, and yet they didn't even make the Top 10. He truly couldn't believe any of it.

Now, though. Now the shock should have _long_ worn off and he should have been as pissed as Santana. He should have been _more_ upset than he was at Regionals, when he lost with the Warblers at the time. He _should_ have been talking his step-brother's ears off and reminding him of the lady chats they've had recently over warm milk about the brunette diva. He _should_ have been bitching to his best friend and reminding her about her giant epiphany of how _New York_ was her one true love.

But no. None of that was happening. Really, Kurt wasn't even upset. Okay, maybe immensely disappointed because they didn't even _place_ for goodness' sakes, but not angry.

Kurt made a face, his expression slightly reflected off the window as he continued to stare out into the sky. He was confused. He had every right to be angry. He had every right to bitch and moan about their loss. So why wasn't he? Kurt sighed, reaching into his jean pocket for his phone. It was put on airplane mode and he wasn't going to use it to message anyone or anything, so Kurt figured it would be okay to just scroll through the various pictures he had taken on it.

He clicked the unlock button, his confusion forgotten at the picture that showed up. It was one of him and Blaine before Kurt left for New York. Blaine had stolen his phone at the time, pressing Kurt against the edge of one of the couches in Kurt's house before flipping the phone around and snapping the picture. They both had the most ridiculous faces on, but they were also smiling bright and wide, both pairs of bright eyes crinkling at the edges. Kurt smiled at the memory, navigating through his phone before he found his photo gallery.

He looked through the pictures he had managed to take during the entire trip. There were several of him, Tina and Mercedes waiting for their flight in the terminal. There were a few with Rachel before they had their breakfast at Tiffany's. There were several dozens of all of New Directions sightseeing. There were even a few quick snapshots of everyone trying to come up with lyrics in their hotel rooms.

As Kurt sifted through the pictures, the smile on his face only grew with every passing picture. He had to cover his mouth at one point because he remembered Mike accidentally choking on a piece of soft pretzel he and Tina were sharing, the hilarious look on the dancer's face perfectly captured by Kurt's phone. He felt his heart swell when he saw the picture of him and Rachel on the stage for Wicked, at the same time reminiscing their little performance. His jaw dropped a little when he realized someone took his phone at one point when they were in the middle of creating lyrics for Light Up the World (Kurt knew it was that song they were working on; he could tell by the outfit he was wearing in the picture), taking a picture of him making a less than amused face.

When he started getting into his older pictures before the trip, Kurt simply dropped his hands into his lap, still clutching onto his phone as he did so. He looked out the window once more, remembering everything he could during his short time in the Big Apple.

While he could still feel the dreadful disappointment of not placing, everything else Kurt felt was the farthest thing from upset. Kurt was ecstatic about the entire experience. He got to sing _twice_ on two separate stages. He got to compete for a National title in a show choir competition. He got to sightsee with his best friends. Sightsee in _New York,_ no less, the place he always dreamed of living in.

He even managed to survive the entire trip without his boyfriend.

(Okay, there were dozens among dozens of texts and a few hour-long calls, but they were still apart and it _sucked,_ alright?)

Thinking of Blaine, Kurt smiled once more. He went through his photo gallery again, stopping to specifically look at pictures of him and Blaine. There were, simply put, a ton of them. Dozens from him and Blaine at prom. An equal amount of them in their blazers when Kurt still attended Dalton. Many from little dates, venturing from the Lima Bean to Breadstix.

Kurt sighed when he found one particular picture, though he was still smiling, biting his bottom lip gently as he did so. It was another sort-of-candid picture of him and Blaine. The curly headed Warbler managed to steal Kurt's phone yet again, and flipped the phone to take a picture before Kurt could stop him. What Kurt didn't expect at the time was Blaine kissing his cheek tenderly as he snapped the photo. In the picture, you could see Blaine's much too happy face as he kissed the countertenor's smooth cheek. You could also see Kurt wincing from the abrupt contact, but there was a smile breaking through his lips.

After another quiet sigh, Kurt locked his phone and returned it to his pocket. He leaned against the window, remembering his confusion about not being upset. Then, a thought occurred to him.

Kurt didn't need to win Nationals. He didn't need to waste any unnecessary emotion like he did at Regionals. He didn't need to threaten Rachel or Finn like Santana did.

He just had the time of his freaking life in New York. He got to sing on a _real_ Broadway stage. He got to see one of, if not _the_ most incredible city on Earth. He got to sing and come in 12th place in competition out of _fifty_ other groups. Honestly, even riding a goddamn plane for the first time in his life was pretty amazing.

But best of all: Kurt had a boyfriend to come home to. A boyfriend who was willing to wait for him as Kurt had the greatest experiences in the city of his dreams. A boyfriend who had begun creating plans of joining him in said city one day.

_Looks like Blaine was right after all,_ Kurt realized. He had his friends, and he had Blaine. That beat a lousy trophy any day.

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><p>Voila! Hope you enjoyed! :3 DROP A REVIEW, PLEASE; THEY'RE THE TROPHIES TO MY SUE SYLVESTER ;D<p>

x o x o bjaarcy


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